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ffXS pAKLY AND IJODrKN ^ISTOKY 



Romantic Legends ! 

Wonderful Railroad Progress ! 

Unprecedented Growth of Country ! 

Fearful and Heart-rending Shipwreck Scenes I 

Extraordinary Strides in Ten Years ! 

Ancient Tale of Haddonfield I 

The Wagoner's Proposal I 




^Ijrlabtlpljia: 



AVM. C. HARRIS & CO., PUBLISHERS AND PRINTERS 
125 South Third Street. 



1868 




ATLANTIC CITY. 



Il^^ l^^arhr and mknx lisiorir. 



CARNESWORTHE, 




WM. C. HARRIS & CO., PUBLISHERS AND PRINTERS, 125 S. THIRD ST. 



■ fT4^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1SC8, by 

WM. C. HARRIS & CO. 

In the Clerk's OflBce of the District Court of the United States, in and for tho 
Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



I^onlenls: 



CHAPTER I. 

Early History, . , . . . 9 

CHAPTER II. 

Legendary, , . . . . I4 

CHAPTER III. 

The Denouement, .... 23 

CHAPTER IV. 

Natural Features — -Projected Railroad, . . 29 

CHAPTER V. 

The Railroad Record, , . . '. 34 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Present City, .... 46 

CHAPTER Vli. 

The Lighthouse and the Wrecks, . . 49 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The City itself — its Topography, . . 70 

CHAPTER IX. 

Growth of Country on Railroad line, . . 80 

CHAPTER X. 

Hot Weather Theatricals, ... 91 

3 



Introiutlorg* 



If historic truth should be no less sacred than religion, 
there can certainly be no roason why the history of the 
fashionable watering place known as Atlantic City, should 
be less important to the heau monde of Philadelphia, than 
the annals of Bath in the days when Nash shone in the 
splendor of his gorgeous ruffles, beneath the smiles of the 
House of Orange, or than those of England's metropolis in 
the sunny times when Bryan Brummell paddled the 
pioneer canoe of phantasy upon the stream of London 
fashion. 

How many claims has Absecon Beach upon the inhabi- 
tants of the Middle States, and more especially upon the 
people of Philadelphia. There, beneath the exhilarating 
influence of the saline air and surging surf, we take our 
summer's salty solace, and shuffle oflF the accumulation of 
fatigue under which a winter's weary work has made us 

5 



6 

suflFer. There, too, we meet our old accustomed friends, 
not to buy and sell — not to talk horse, grain, or iron with 
them — not to waste the day in wordy wrangle with them 
about stocks, bonds, and the fluctuations of the gold 
market — but we meet them to read, convulsed with laughs, 
the funny bill of fare of an enterprising hotel keeper, who 
loves to make amusement for his friends by providing them 
with food for their risible, as well as for their corporeal 
appetites, and also by providing them with the true pleas- 
ure ever experienced in the poetry of motion at the gigan- 
tic hops, where the dancing toe keeps step alike, to the 
music of the band and the eternal symphony of old Ocean. 

There, too, the student and the clerk, rejoicing in the 
leisure of the summer holidays, delight to kill the heavily 
hanging time, as they bask in the sunbeams of the school 
girls' eyes and ardently wish that summer was eternal — 
books all buried — the world turned upside down — in order 
that the pleasures of Absecon Beach and its fleeting amuse- 
ments might linger to the last of life. 

In short, so nearly, dearly and serenely is this now civi- 
lized — once wild and savage retreat, connected with all our 
thoughts of hot weather pleasures — all our dreams of sum- 
mer joy, that the history here presented will undoubtedly 
be read by old and young — by saint and sage — by clerio 



7 

and disciple — for it is^ at once, tlie record of home life 
and higli life, of low life and middle life — tlie story of 
joys, pleasures and pastimes — of liappy fights with foam- 
ing waves — of long-loved walks and lovely drives — all of 
which are, and have been the product of that mighty and 
conquering genius, known to us all by the name of Ameri- 
can enterprise. 



CHAPTER 



it # 



The purpose of this book is to place in the hands of 
our readers the history of Atlantic City, from the far off 
days, -when the savage held undisputed occupancy of the 
meadows, where are now enacted the scenes incident to 
civilized pleasure, down to a time that is within the cog- 
nizance of the present visitor to old Absecon — we shall re- 
count the changes from savagism to civilization, from 
lethargy to activity, from activity to the accomplishment 
of the grand work which energy and enterprise have 
wrought out, and we shall endeavor at the same time to 
point out the causes and accidents that produced these 
happy results in so short a time. 

Of the aboriginal history of Atlantic City, little is 
known. In the latter part of the seventeenth century, a 

9 



10 

Portuguese adventurer, named Leonarda, wlio was sup- 
posed to be a lineal descendant of Vasco da Gama, was 
shipwrecked upon tlie American coast. His crew per- 
ished. He, himself, with a few faithful followers was 
saved a watery grave, through the friendly exertions of 
some Delaware Indians. After enduring the most severe 
hardships, these penniless Portuguese made their way on 
foot to New York city. There, wandering through the 
town, among other delicacies of temporary poverty, they 
succeeded in obtaining the " cold shoulder" from the an- 
cestors of the Knickerbocker aristocracy. In this condi- 
tion of misery they providentially fell in with a Portu- 
guese skipper, who commanded a barque. The sufferers 
were taken aboard, kindly cared for on their voyage home- 
ward, and after a passage of ten weeks were again in 
their native land. Leonarda returned to Portugal to find 
that his lady-love, a young woman of distinction, had died 
during his absence. The government requested him to 
write the narrative of his sufferings and adventures. He 
did so, but would not hear of the publication of his ac- 
count. His ambition was gone. He lived only for his 
loving, dark-eyed beauty, whom he had left behind, and 
now that he had been spared the waves only to endure 
fresh misery at home, he ardently wished that he had sunk 



11 

beneath the billows and joined his Bellsicosa in the im- 
mortality of affection. Three years after his arrival in his 
native land he died of a broken heart at Oporto. In his 
will he desired that the story of his voyage should never 
be published. The government respected his request and 
deposited the record in the archives of the bureau of navi- 
gation, where it perished in a conflagration, along with 
other public documents, twenty years since. About thirty- 
five years ago an American traveler gained access to this 
quaintly written document. This antiquary describes it 
as "a sincere and plaintive, but simple story of adventure, 
which is probably rendered more sad in tone, than it 
would otherwise have been, by reason of the private 
troubles that were weighing upon the heart of Leonarda, 
when he wrote it." From the correct description of the 
beach, contained in this peculiar parchment, as well- as 
from the frequent mention therein, of the colony of New 
Jersey, there can be no doubt that the unfortunate ship- 
wreck, of which Leonarda was one of the few survivors, 
took place at no other spot than Absecon Beach. 

The aforesaid American traveler and antiquary, made 
copious extracts from this valuable record. On his return 
to America, he deposited these researches, in the custody 
of the oldest inhabitant of Atlantic City, which at that 



12 

time contained but four houses. That ubiquitous old 
lady (the oldest inhabitant) lost the original dnanuscript 
some fifteen years ago, but had previously taken the pre- 
caution to make extracts in a note-book, into which she 
incorporated much useful information, concerning wrecks 
and murders. The writer has fortunately obtained access 
to these hitherto unfrequented stores of information, and 
has been assisted in the business of perpetrating history, 
by many good citizens of Philadelphia, Absecon, and 
Atlantic, to all of whom he takes this opportunity of 
returning his sincere thanks from, as Charles Dickens 
would say, "his heart of hearts." In spite of the plain- 
tive feature that according to the above quoted traveler, 
pervades the original narrative of Leonarda, that traveler, 
provided the old woman's note-book be correct, has left 
behind him many humorous legends, which throw consid- 
erable light upon the customs and habits of life of the 
aboriginal Dclawares, who occupied that portion of the 
coast upon which now stands Atlantic City. 

Since the record of Leonarda ^s no longer in existence, 
it is of course impossible to gain any reliable information 
upon this subject, which if not important, cannot fail to 
be interesting. We have therefore determined to lay before 
the public, such a specimen of the Indian legends of 



13 

Absecon beach, as we liave, with difficulty, managed to 
decipher out of the hieroglyphics of the aged matron, 
who has lived in Atlantic since the year of our Lord 
1818, more than thirty years before Atlantic City had an 
existence. 



CHAPTER II. 



fjgcntorn. 



Where be the place that has not its romance and its 
poetry? There exists no nook, no gi'ove, no rivulet, no 
fountain, no wood, no cataract, which does not hold up to 
us, through the dim vista of the past, some bright or foul 
picture. The rough Hellespont cannot move without 
murmuring forth the fidelity of Hero and Leander; the 
willow at the tomb of Ninus still weeps over the cruel fixte 
of Pyramus and Thisbe; the vale of Avoca is still 
haunted by the spirits of the faithful two, who rather 
than suflFer separation, by the interposition of inexorable 
parents, died in each other's arms, by jumping from a 
lofty cliiF, a spot still pointed out to travelers, as the 
"Lovers' Leap." Other places have their records of 
murder and cruelty — we prefer to deal as much as possible 

14 



15 

witli such stories and incidents, as awaken our tenderness 
and pity, rather than with those that fill the mind with 
things terrible and revolting. The inspired by Mantua's 
muse may sing of war; and the "blind old man of Scio's 
Eocky Isle" may chant "Achilles' wrath, to Greece, 
the direful spring of woes unnumbered." Our legendary 
specimen must teem with the milk of sentiment and 
pathos, or with none. 

The watering-place which we celebrate in prose, though 
but lately known to civilized people, had in former times 
its sunshine and its darkness. In the mutilated manu- 
script of the old lady, above referred to, we are able, by 
dint of perseverance, and after several almost fruitless 
attempts to decipher her hen-scratches, to give in our 
own words, but with due fidelity to the original, an Indian 
narrative of love and war. The events are known to have 
occurred among the native Delawares of Absecon beach, 
that is, provided the " Jersey Shore," upon which Leon- 
arda was wrecked, be really the same spot as is understood 
by Atlantic City — and of this there is barely room for a 
doubt. 

It appears, that while Leonarda was detained among 
the indians, by his wreck, a civil commotion broke out 
among the yellow tribe, on somewhat the same grounds as 



16 

tliose upon whicli the Grreek heroes, Agamemnon and 
Achilles quarreled and separated. At the time wherein 
the startling events about to be related occurred, there 
was but one tribe in that locality. Not the least entertain- 
ing of the tribe, was a young Indian girl, who loved the 
brother of the chief, and was beloved by him in turn. 
Her mother had died shortly after she had given birth to 
the future inamorata of the chief's brother, and at the 
time of which we speak, she had no near relative left but 
her father, who was dragging out a miserable life, by 
reason of a severe wound in the nape of the neck, which 
he had received from an arrow, and which had now 
turned into a cancer. 

The chief, who happened to be the elder of two brothers, 
was much enamored by the Fair Ocean Maid. This was 
the name by which she was known in the language of the 
Delawares. He was not long, however, in finding that 
his passion was not reciprocated, but, that on the con- 
trary, the fair object of his affections, basked in fancied 
sunshine when his brother smiled upon her, and would 
much prefer the frown of him she loved, to the smile of 
one to whom she was indifferent. In this dilemma, the 
chief, mortified because the glitter of his lofty position 
dazzled the eyes of the fair red girl, less than the simple 



17 

look of liim she loved, attempted what is always an im- 
possible task, viz : to turn the bent of true aflPection, and 
thus win the fair girl by force. He forbade and pre- 
vented all interviews between the lovers, and in the spirit 
of that celebrated dog, that once upon a time occupied a 
manger, had her strictly confined and guarded in his own 
wigwam. No prayers on her part, no protestations on tha 
part of her father could shake his purpose. The brother, 
whom he had hitherto loved, he now hated, and kept 
under the strictest surveillance and subordination. 

The young brother had a goodly number of youthful 
companions who favored his cause, and who swore to 
assist him in winning by force and valor, her of whom 
tyranny had deprived him. The better to carry out their 
designs, he and they broke off at night from the gen- 
eral encampment, after a fruitless attempt to rescue the 
Fair Ocean Maid, and having traveled a distance of about 
four miles, they constructed some wigwams, where they 
proposed to reside, and immediately set to work in pre- 
paring to make a second assault on the encampment of 
the chief. 

Meanwhile, the Indian girl, as is usual in such cases, 
pined hourly for her beloved, and no allurements on the 
part of her would-be husband, could incline her in his 



18 

favor. Whenever lie went to the chase, he left a strong 
body of men to guard his wigwam, lest his gentle and ro- 
mantic savage should become the prize of his fraternal 
enemy. Among this guard was a young man named 
Wau-Koo-Naby, who had loved the captive from his 
childhood. The disinterestedness and unselfish nature of 
true affection were never better exemplified than in the 
conduct of this Indian. Though Wau-Koo-Naby knew 
that she could never be his, yet he would have risked his 
life to rescue her from the hands of one with whom he 
knew she could never be happy. One day during the 
absence of the chief, while Wau-Koo-Naby was talking 
apart with the fair child of the ocean, he suggested to 
her the idea of attempting an escape. At the first 
thought of such an undertaking, her mind wavered. The 
risk she would run ! What if she should be overtaken ? 
And more dreadful than the rest, what if Wau-Koo-Naby 
should prove false, or set her free, only to demand his 
own gratification at her expense, as the price of her 
liberty? But then thought she, this cannot be. How 
often had she found him true ! How wont was he her 
path to strew, with white men's scalps in deadly mass, 
o'er which she might in triumph pass. How oft had 
they been used to walk, and in dark lonely places, talk of 



19 

lofty deeds and foamy steeds, owned by their brawny 
great grandsires; whose stories told from sire to son, 
around the old time Indian fires, had by their spirit many 
a victory won. How oft had he, when others stood re- 
tarded, her holy virtue bravely guarded, against foul 
attack. Thus his faithfulness so well he'd proved, that by 
his love she hoped to win her loved. A plan was soon 
agreed upon for effecting her escape. What will not 
love do to gain its purpose ? It will hang on a shred, on 
a straw, on a hair. It will dazzle the fancy more than 
our grandam, or our Sunday School teacher could ever 
hai»e done by their glowing descriptions of Paradise. It 
will cause the stone to weep with it, the tree to sigh with 
it, the bird to sing to it, and all nature to rejoice or to 
grieve with it. And indeed the Ocean Girl allowed the 
thought of her escape, and of her happy re-union with 
her young lover, to impress itself so deeply upon her 
mind, that she thought nothing on earth could be so cruel 
as to thwart her design. 

The night chosen for the escape was peculiarly aus- 
picious. Angry Neptune made the sea to swell, and 
Jove thundered forth the artillery of all the gods. 
Boreas rose in all his mighty power, as if to bid good 
cheer to the Ocean Girl. The ancient ocean heaved its 



20 

troubled breast, and in its eternal spirit of unrest, seemed 
to speak for tbe Great Spirit, and say " from everlasting 
to everlasting/' The cbief had been absent at the chase 
since mid-day, and had not yet returned. The partner 
of her designs had persuaded his fellow-guardsmen to go 
to sleep, assuring them that he would keep an eye to his 
captive, and awake them on the approach of any person 
near the wigwam. No sooner had the redskins given 
over their weary frames to sleep, than the watchful pair 
crept out of the wigwam, and fled with utmost speed, in 
face of wind and storm, in the direction in which they 
imagined they would find the chief's brother. After ftiey 
had been gone about two hours, they were obliged to take 
rest in a grove. The rigors of the night had thrown them 
into a state of complete exhaustion. No sooner were 
they seated upon the ground, than they beheld lights at a 
distance, and horses passing and re-passing between them 
and the lights. They both concluded that the lights were 
the fires of her young friends' encampment. Why should 
they think otherwise ? The sight of these lights re- 
stored the courage of the exhausted couple. They im- 
mediately directed their steps whither the watch-fires 
allured. As they approached the encampment, they 
called to their friends for assistance. They were as yet, 



21 

however, too far from the encampment for their voices to 
be heard, amid the din and clamor that rent the midnight 
air in the vicinity of the lights. The fires, too, were 
much farther than their sight had led them to imagine. 
When they drew closer to the spot where they conjectured 
their friends were, the noise of prancing steeds and the 
loud war-cry, told her and her companion that something 
terrible was on the tapis. The Ocean Girl cried frantically 
to her supposed friends, to come to her assistance. The 
warriors despatched two mounted red men to the spot. 
Whether these men were friends or foes, the red girl and 
her companion could not decide, for the dense darkness of 
the night made it impossible to distinguish, at their then 
distance from the fires, either the features or the dress of 
the red men. One of the Indians dismounted, and con- 
trary to all the traditional usuages of the redskins, smote 
Wau-Koo-Naby to the earth with his tomahawk, and thus 
fell at her side, the companion of the Ocean Girl. The 
latter swooned at the sight. The dismounted warrior 
swung the gentle captive upon his horse, jumped on 
behind her, and conveyed her to quarters that were by no 
means agreeable to herself. * * * 

The moment the guardsmen, who had been placed to 
watch the Indian girl, awoke and found her gone, they 



22 

immediately mounted the fleetest horses they could find 
and hastened to inform the chief of the infidelity of Wau- 
Koo-Naby. The chief swore by his tribe that the treach- 
orous Indian should no longer live. He accordingly 
called tho. warriors together in council, and ordered them 
to prepare for the recapture of the Ocean Girl. The com- 
motion incident to Indian war movements ensued, and 
this was the uproar that startled Wau-Koo-Naby and his 
companion, upon approaching the watch-fires as above re- 
lated. The chief succeeded, as we have told, in effecting 
a portion of his purpose. 



CHAPTER 



l^k j]cn0uemcnt« 



The rough sea had brought on a calm, fine morning. 
The air was cool and refreshing. The birds' merry song 
could be heard fi'om the wigwam, and the stormy billows 
that had been all night long, so furiously lashing old 
Absecon beach, had at last sunk into the bosom of the 
ocean, and the wide expansive sea was level and bright as 
a mirror. Already the gorgeous sun was flashing golden 
blessings upon the beach, and forcing its wakening light 
through the openings of the wigwam, where the Ocean 
Girl cast her Eeiliad piercingly, and beheld sitting at the 
entrance of her habitation, in sullen, pensive mood, the 
very man, whom of all others she least desired to see — the 
chief Her heart sank within her. Uttering a smothered 
groan, she hid her face in her blanket. Then back upon 

23 



24 

her sorrowing soul, came like foul spectres all the deeds 
and sufferings of the preceding night. Could it all have 
been but a dream? she asked herself; and wishing for an 
affirmative reply, she was about to raise her eyes to 
heaven, to thank the Great Spirit, that she had passed 
through no dread realities — that "Wau-Koo-Naby lived 
— when those eyes, raised to thank heaven that no life 
had been taken, caught sight of her companion's blood upon 
her arms and hands. 

She again groaned, and gave vent to sorrow in tears, 
such as Namaoke shed, when the "poor Indian woman" 
lost her child. Although the chief at first felt infuriated 
by the Ocean Girl's attempt at an escape, yet, in the 
luxury of her eyes, his anger easily cooled, and he vainly 
spent the day in straining stratagems and making passion- 
ate persuasions, in the hope of reconciling his captive to 
her miserable lot. That night she could not sleep. She 
had no fear in the chief's presence, for the honor of the 
red man always prevents his taking advantage of the 
otter sex. Her restlessness was caused by continuous 
thoughts of him she loved, crowding upon her. Would 
she ever see him again ? Had he been killed in battle 
since last they met ? Did he still think of her ? She 
hoped so, for she could not help thinking of him. These, 



25 

and a hundred other thoughts occupied her musing, 
when the noise of advancing horses struck upon her ear, 
and the air was rent with the wild yells of the aboriginal 
warriors. Her breast heaved for a moment and then her 
eyes lit up with hope. It was the chief's brother coming 
to rescue her. The encampment was speedily roused, and 
a terrible fight ensued. Her lover's attempt to free her 
from the chief's bondage was unsuccessful. The chief, 
however, was slightly wounded in the affray, and would 
have lost his captive, but for the precaution of an old Indian. 
The latter disguised her in male attire, and lashed her to 
a horse, which, during the assault he ever held beside 
him. During the fight, her lover rode beside her many 
times, and taking her for a man, made several daring 
dashes at her with his tomahawk, all of which the crafty 
old Indian skilfully guarded off. The skirmish, which 
was commenced after midnight, lasted until daybreak next 
morning, when the younger brother and his men, over- 
come by the superior forces of their enemy, were obliged 
to retire to their wigwams, fatigued and disconcerted. 
The suffering captive, the object of this fighting and 
bloodshed, was taken from her steed almost lifeless. Her 
tender limbs had been cut and strained by the bandages 
with which the old rufiian had tied her. When placed 



26 

upon her coucli in the chiefs wigwam, her frame trembled, 
a cold sweat coursed through her inmost bones. Her 
bodily suffering, though severe enough was small, com- 
pared with the mental anguish she endured in thinking 
that her heart was murdered. When quiet again reigned 
in the encampment, the chief approached the Ocean Girl, 
drew close to her couch and looked inquiringly in her 
face. That face was placid; not a feature moved, the 
brow was cold. He caught her hands to rouse her, but they 
dropped beside her as though they had been lead, and re- 
mained cold and motionless. The chief's heart was 
struck with compunction; all the proverbially noble 
nature of the red skinned warrior returned, and falling 
upon his knees, he called aloud to the Great Spirit for 
forgiveness. 

The chief was sorely agitated in his own mind. He 
had broken the heart of the Indian Girl, and had hated 
his brother. He could not hope to win the Great 
Spirit's favor, until he had done all that could now be 
done. After covering with pious care, the body of the 
Ocean Girl, he rushed from his wigwam and fled to his 
brother's encampment. He threw himself before Meane- 
mah, (for that was the young brother's name) crying 
" Mercy! Mercy ! I have killed the Ocean Girl." 



27 

Meanemah raised his tomaliawk to dash dowu the chief 
of the yellow tribe, when an old Indian stayed the blow, 
and wrenching the tomahawk from his hand, whispered 
something in his leader's ear. "No, no !" cried Meanemah, 
"The red man must not raise his hand against any of the 
yellow tribe. You are my brother ; I spare you not for 
that, but that you are my brother in the tribe; I this 
day could send your soul back to the Great Spirit." 

The chief himself was overwhelmed, and determined to 
kill himself He inflicted a wound upon his breast and fell 
upon the ground. Meanemah rushed f]:om the wigwam 
and ran to the chief's habitation, to embrace in death, 
her, who in her life had been forced from his arms. 

What must have been his joy, when, upon arrival at 
her couch, he found the Ocean Girl, more' beautiful than 
ever, enjoying a gentle slumber. "When the chief imag- 
ined her dead, she had only fallen into a heavy swoon. 
The wound which the chief had inflicted upon himself 
did not prove fatal. He was restored to health and vigor 
under the efiicient care of the medicine men. 

So far from regretting his mistake, he rejoiced at its 
result, and thanked the Great Spirit that everybody was 
happy. He resigned the chiefship in his brother's favor, 
and resolved to live a tranquil life, which we know he 



28 

succeeded in doing, at Ipast up to the time tliat Leonarda 
left the settlement, along with his Portuguese J.Ieanders, 
to face the hardships of the pedestrian journey, as above 
related. 

The young man, who had assisted the captive in her 
flight, though he had been severely wounded, yet sur- 
vived and was requited for his fidelity, by receiving in 
marriage, the hand of the chief's sister. 

This is the first and most interesting story we are able 
to glean out of the moth-eaten manuscript before us, with 
the exception, perhaps of the one immediately succeeding 
it, which, were it not that the thread is broken by the loss 
of a few leaves in the most important part of the narra- 
tive, we would take pleasure in submitting to the perusal 
of our readers. The other stories are of a predatory 
character, and would tend more to grate than gratify the 
reader's ear. This one, however, answers our purpose. 
It sufi&ces to let us know something of the character of 
the original inhabitants of Absecon beach. 



CHAPTER IV. 



mknl J pturtil— |roJitctj|d fcilroatl 



When upwards of one hundred years after Leonarda's 
departure from the New World, the white man first came 
to settle upon the barren beach, the traces of Indian 
habitation were few and far between. The place was 
pregnant with swamps, sand hills and game. This last 
consisted of foxes, rabbits and wild fowl. An occasional 
bone hoked from a sand-hill, or an old skull found sunk 
here and there in a swamp, were all the vestiges left to 
mark the spot, where a century before, deeds of valor 
had been done, and scenes of aboriginal love had been 
enacted. 

It is impossible to conjecture the cause of the deser- 
tion of this place by the Delawares. Whether they 
dreaded the encroachments of the sea, or the advancing 

29 



30 

avalanche of pale-face occupation, will ever remain a 
mystery. Certain it is, tliat the Indians must have been 
unknown to Absecon beach, at least fifty years prior to its 
settlement by Jeremiah Leeds, Adams the agent, and the 
antiquated saltworks, that long remained a silent monu- 
ment of defeated enterprise. 

The earliest white inhabitant of whom we have any 
knowledge, was the owner of the above mentioned salt- 
works, and his family. These people must have existed 
on the bleak shore for a short time prior to the arrival of 
old Jeremiah Leeds, who found his way to the spot in the 
year 1818. From the widow of this pioneer, a lady who 
now enjoys a green old age, the writer has succeeded in 
obtaining much valuable information, which has been in- 
corporated into this volume. These early settlers sub- 
sisted for a long time on the game, in which the beach 
even to this day abounds. Squatter sovereignty was the 
law of the place, and well was such supreme power regarded 
at that early time, by the primitive whites; although the 
advantages which that power conferred were not so 
shrewdly turned to account as thoy might have been. 
Up till the year 1852, when the llailroad project was first 
mooted, the place was regarded as a succession of barren 
sand hills and unproductive swamps. It was the resort 



of tlio rufcliless wrecker, whose cliief deliglit lay in allur- 
ing, by false beacon, the storm-tossed mariner upon the 
dangerous Charybdis, in order that the amphibious bur- 
glar might reap the reward of his treachery. The news of 
a wreck was always spread through the interior to the 
extent of about ten miles, but as we have devoted an 
entire chapter to "the Wrecks," we shall not enlarge upon 
the effects which this news invariably produced. With 
such a class of people living in the neighborhood, it is 
not surprising, that every mention of improvements was 
listened to with eager, but jealous ears, by the inhabitants 
of the six houses that were then upon the island, for from 
1818, down till the year 1852, in addition to the salt- 
works and the house of Leeds, the place had only been 
amplified by four houses. 

During this period of thirty-six years, the beach pre- 
sented to the unscrutinizing eye of its inhabitants, nothing 
better than a vast unavailable waste. The keen percep- 
tion, however, of Dr. Jonathan Pitney, of Absecon, at 
once detected the peculiar advantages which such a spot 
offered for bathing purposes. He came, he saw, and his 
mind conquered the problem. In the extent of the beach, 
in its gently shelving nature, and smooth and solid sand 
bed, which produces a gradual declivity, that robs the 



32 

dreaded ground-swell of its terrors, Dr. P., twenty years 
before the railway was thought of by any brain but 
his own, beheld the physical advantages thus presented to 
the timid aquarian, to frolic in the breakers with im- 
punity. But, although the railway problem was already 
solved in his mind, the Doctor had to fight many ob- 
stacles, among others, that of deep rooted prejudice, 
before he could succeed in gaining the ears of capitalists.* 
In some points of the beach, there exists, at a little 
distance from the water edge, an outer sand bar. This 
effectually neutralizes the effect of the surf swell, and 
enables those, whose salubrity suffers by the shock of the 
surge, to enjoy a bath in smooth water. Upwards of 
forty thousand Philadelphians annually enjoy the 
pleasant advantages which the glorious summer gives 
them in Atlantic City. All these pleasures and advan- 
tages of which we now enjoy the full fruition, were 
present to the mind of Dr. Pitney, long ago. When a 
wild waste stretched before him for ten miles — when 
upon that waste there were but six residences for man — 
when the only individuals, that ever lent a temporary 
increase to the population of the apparently god-forsaken 
locality, were either the swarming wreckers, ever eager, 

*For an account of the railway, and the difficulties it encountered, see next 
Chapter. 



33 

ever gluttonous, or the wandering sportsmen from Phila- 
delphia, who sought to find the gratification of their 
desires for game, in a place that man had apparently dis- 
carded — when a man's reason was almost doubted, if 
he were so Quixotic as to suggest that such a place as 
Absecon beach might be made not only to serve the inte- 
rests of civilization, but was capable of being both im- 
proved into a city of importance, and rendered a for- 
midable rival to the watering places of the country — 
when the ignorant regarded enterprise in the socialistic 
light of theft — then was the oracle of enterprise from 
the mouth of Jonathan Pitney, heard exclaim, " I shall 
build upon this wild waste a second Cape May/' . 



CHAPTER V. 



Ik Sailroad Ictorl 



At the time when Dr. Pitney first conceived the notion 
of building a railroad over the meadows of Jersey, for 
the purpose of connecting Philadelphia with the sea, it 
was opposed to his proposal, that it would be impossible 
to draw the people away from Cape May, then the favorite 
resort. The Doctor's long acquaintance, however, with 
the Jersey shore, had taught him that Absecon beach was 
a much more accessible spot than Cape Island. He 
knew that the journey from Philadelphia to Cape Island 
lay over a rugged and unsatisfactory upland grade. The 
scenery, too, was at that time rough and uninteresting, 
presenting a continued and monotonous aspect of the 
worst kind of farm country, that belongs to a race pro- 
verbial for "saving the fractions." 

34 



35 

By continued and earnest advocacy of liis darling 
sclieme, tlie Doctor finally succeeded in obtaining the 
favorable consideration of monied railroaders, "who lent 
their countenance to the proposed enterprise, so far, as to 
hold a preliminary meeting, and appoint Dr. P. to en- 
gineer a bill through the New Jersey Legislature. The 
faith, however, both of these capitalists, and the people 
of Absecon, in the ultimate success of the project, was not 
of a very strong character. The people along the pro- 
posed line heard every mention of the coming railroad 
with derision. Their conduct was a repetition of that of the 
Fourierites and Socialists. The subsequent history of the 
road in its organization, subscription to capital stock, and 
in some other respects, is the old story of the antagonism 
existing between enterprise and staple stupidity. " Build 
your road, and the people will starve to death when they 
get to the beach," said a Jerseyman. "We shall bring 
over the iron track the food with which to feed them," 
was the reply of the Doctor. " Build your city, and the 
winter tides will sweep it away," said the same " cent- 
saving specimen of humanity. But the settlers builded a 
city upon tiles, established barriers, and laughed away the 
terrors of old. Neptune. " People the beach," said 
another, " and the mosquitoes will drive the summer resi- 



36 

dents in herds away." To whicli the Doctor answered : 
"The salt breeze from the sea will scatter your mosquito 
pests, and bring healthy cheeks impervious to their sting." 
These are some specimens of the Jersey facetiousness 
that was opposed to the railroad. 

Mr. Edwin P. Graham, one of the most respected 
residents of Haddonfield, New Jersey, informed the 
writer, that in the early days, when the road was first 
projected, an old farmer declared he had no particular 
objection to the railroad, and would give the company all 
the land they wanted gratis, provided he could " hitch his 
market wagon on behind the train on market days." 

The result both of the lukewarm faith which capitalists 
had in the enterprise, and the derision of the people, was, 
that Dr. Pitney was baffled in his attempt to get a 
charter. Nothing daunted, however, he returned to 
Trenton at the next session of the Legislature, and after 
constant and determined labor,* succeeded both in lobbying 
through a preliminary bill, and in obtaining the requisite 
charter. From that time, the railroad was a destined 
fact, and gradually the attention of capitalists was drawn 
to the advantages, which, as a summer resort, Atlantic 
City possessed over Cape May. 

*iu Ibis labor, Di. Pitney was mateiially aided by Joseph E. Potts, Esq. 



37 

The Act of Incorporation appointed John W. Mickel, 
Andrew K. Hay, John H. Coffin, John Stanger, Jesse 
Richards, Thomas H. Richards, Edmund Taylor, Joseph 
Thompson, Robert B. Risley, Enoch Doughty, and 
Jonathan Pitney, to open books to receive subscriptions 
to the capital stock of the road. The books were ac- 
cordingly opened at the "Arch Street House," kept by 
Thompson Newkirk, on the 24th day of June, 1852. Ten 
thousand shares were immediately taken up, and the books 
closed before sunset. At six o'clock, P. M. the thirty- 
eight stockholders met, and elected the following board of 
directors, viz : William Coffin, Joseph Porter, Andrew R. 
Hay, Thomas H. Richardson, (who, on the 25th of August, 
gave place to Mr. J. C. Dacousta,) Enoch Doughty, Jona- 
than Pitney, Stephen Colwell, Samuel Richards and Wm. 
W. Fleming. One hour later, the directors met and or- 
ganized their first meeting with Andrew K. Hay, Esq., in 
the chair, and Samuel Richards, Secretary, ^jro tern. 
Messrs. Fleming, Richards and Colwell were appointed the 
first committee on by-laws. Messrs. Colwell, Coffin and 
Richards were appointed to select the most favorable ter- 
minus on the Delaware. At this meeting, the report of 
Mr. Richard B. Osborne, the Civil Engineer, who had 
made the preliminary survey, was adopted. In this 



report, the prospective advantages of tlie road are well 
portrayed; and the sequel has been the almost correct ful- 
filment of Mr. Osborne's prophecies. As he predicted, 
Haddonfield, Long-acoming, Hammonton, Great Egg 
Harbor and other towns, have grown up into thriving and 
industrial villages. 

The proper principles, that should never be lost sight of 
in all new works, were rigidly adhered to by the pioneers 
of this railroad. The line and its furniture were carefully 
adapted to the country through which the road passed. 
The line was judiciously selected, so that the greatest 
benefit might be conferred upon the adjacent country and 
the public in general. The engineer recommended that 
the line should be as free from curves as possible; and 
this wise suggestion has to all intents and purposes 
been acted upon. No monies have been expended, 
for which the road has not received a full equivalent, and 
the entire management since 1852, has been characterized 
by the absence of all outlay for ornamental and unneces- 
sary work. At the meeting of Directors, held on the 13th 
of July, Enoch Doughty handed in the names of fourteen 
new subscribers to the capital stock. They were im- 
mediately charged a tax of five per cent, upon their in- 
vestment. The proper contracts were proceeded with, 



39 

witliout delay, and tlie railroad lias ever since been a 
steady success. 

The Company next appointed Dr. Pitney and Mr. 
Enoch Doughty, to purchase from the heirs of Jeremiah 
Leeds, who died about the year 1830, such lands upon 
Absecon beach, as might be required, both for the railway 
and the other purposes of the Company. The result of 
the labors of Dr. Pitney and Mr. Doughty was, that two 
hundred acres of land came into possession of the Railway 
Company, for the nominal sum of seventeen dollars an acre. 
The Company also purchased the sole right of way, in 
width, one hundred feet. This way is now represented by 
Atlantic Avenue. The Dr. labored hard to have the ave- 
nues, running parallel with Atlantic of the same width, 
but the Leeds people objected so decidedly, that the other 
streets that bear the names of oceans, are not more than 
eighty feet in width, while the cross avenues that bear 
the names of states, are not more than sixty. The Rail- 
road Company was for a time buying up land in such 
large quantities, that there was passed by the Legislature 
of New Jersey, a prohibitory act, which prevented the 
Railroad purchasing more than a certain amount of real 
estate. 

The result of this restriction, was the formation of a 



40 

Land Company, the directors and stockliolders of wliieh, 
were the same persons who held those positions in the 
Railway. This was perhaps one of the wisest move- 
ments that the Company undertook, for it has resulted in 
incalculable benefits, both to the public and the stock- 
holders. Although so much had been done to foster this 
enterprise, although it was plain to the capitalist that an 
opportunity would by this Railroad be afforded the mer- 
chant to make his summer residence at the sea shore, 
while he could at the same time be transacting his busi- 
ness in Philadelphia; although everything indicated that 
the rough unexplored region, that lay between Philadel- 
phia and the beach, could be made profitable in the 
production of light fruits; although the road was formally 
opened on the first of July, 1854; yet, unfortunately, the 
crisis of 1857 found the Camden and Atlantic Railroad 
with its track laid, but with insufficient rolling stock, a 
large floating debt, and with the economical completion of 
incidental works, greatly embarrassed by the stringency in 
the money market, that followed close upon the failure of 
the Ohio Life and Trust Co. On account both of this, 
and the laudable policy of the board of directors, to in- 
vest the eailiings of the road in its thorough equipment, 
no dividends have been as yet declared upon the capital 
stock of the Company. 



41 

The first President of the Railroad was Mr. John C. 
Dacousta. and the first Secretary was Mr. J. Engle 
Negus. During the incumbency of these gentlemen, the 
first mortgage bonds of the Company were signed to the 
amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. By 
this means the rolling stock of the Company was con- 
siderably increased, and the affairs of the Company 
gradually improved to such an extent, that with the 
exception of the temporary lull of 1857, the Railroad has 
been one continued financial success. 

The report of 1867 is at present before us, and through 
the courtesy of Mr. Custis, the respected Superintendent 
of the Road, we are enabled to make a comparison of the 
earnings of the Road, between the year 1867 and those of 
1866 and 1860. 

The figures are taken from the books of the Company, 
and can therefore be relied upon by the general public, as 
affording a compendious, and at the same time, an exact 
statement of the existing circumstances of the Rail- 
way. 

The following table is a correct exhibit for the years 
named, of receipts and expenditures, including all sums 
laid out in operations, maintainance and cost of equip- 
ments, in the various branches of Railroad machinery. 



42 

Comparison of 1867, with 1866 and i860. 









a « 








m 


























>• 


Z w 


J 1 




AL EXPEND 
INCLUDING 
OP NEW C 


TOTAL IN 
EEATINO AN 
AINTAININO 


C5 


p li 

is 


« s 

CO B. 

z 


. 

g i 


B. 

g g 
Bi ^ 




g 




m 


s ^ 


s: 


b! 


S Z 


» 


'^ M 


1867 











2.24 




H 




b: 


145,268 


325,407 33 


206,058 39 


181,955 85 


1.42 


1.25 


63.323 


55.916 


1866 


146,302 


303,975 22 


200,318 47 


181,797 88 


2.08 


1.37 


1.25 


65.930 


59.810 


1860 


114,532 


160,042 87 


105,181 44 


105,181 44 


1.40 


.92 


.92 


65.720 


65.720 



This exhibit is a most encouraging one to the stockholders 
of the Company. Comparing 1867 with 1866, we find the 
former year exceeds the latter in increase of receipts, by 
$21,432.11, and an increase of receipts per mile, ran 1«y 
trains, of sixteen cents. The cost of running and 
maintaining the road, has been less than 56 per cent, of 
the receipts. Such a result is seldom obtained in even 
those roads doing the largest business. A table recently 
prepared for the Central Pacific Railway, gives the per- 
centage of receipts expended in operating twelve of the 
principal railroads of the country. The lowest attained 
is sixty-one and eight-tenths per cent., by the Reading 
Railroad. The next in order, is sixty-three and one-half 
per cent., by the Michigan Central Railroad. The others 
ran up to eighty and twenty-nine one-hundredths per cent. 



43 

Again, the comparison between 'G7 and 'GO, the year 
before the war commenced, and a period of comparative 
prosperity, finds the figures of 18G7 — the last men- 
tioned year, showing an increase over 1860, of 103 per cent. 
in the total receipts, and of 60 per cent, per mile, run by 
trains, while the increased cost per mile is but 36 per 
cent. 

These results, not only for a young road, but for 
many an old one, would be justly characterized as extra- 
ordinary. 

During 186G and 1867, there were two hundred tons of 
new iron laid each year, which is included in the above 
operating expenses of those years, as is every item of ex- 
penditure, excepting that for actual increase in stock of 
cars. For a few years, no new iron was laid, but in the 
two years just named, the depreciation of all perishable 
improvements, such as engines, cars, rails, &c., was fully 
repaired, and the cost of these expenses is all included in 
the above estimates. In future, iron will be laid with 
much greater promptness than heretofore. 

This is what the railroad, that was originally laughed at, 
has already grown into, but in addition to its own increase, 
it has of necessity benefited the public, and by reason of 
it, has grown up the City of Atlantic, which is to all in- 



44 

tents and purposes, tlie creation of railroad* enterpriyo. 
Before the railroad existed, tlie people of Absecon 
village employed themselves in the primitive occupation 
of carting oysters sixty miles to Camden, through the 
sands of Jersey. This active kind of work, gave employ- 
ment to the male portion of the people, whilst dredging 
and fishing were engaged in by both sexes. In those happy 
days of blissful ignorance, a few dollars per week was an 
earnest of six days' hard labor, whilst now, the old gran- 
dams of the family can earn twice as much per day, by 
raising chickens for hotel use in Atlantic City, as was 
formerly the pittance of the head of the domestic circle, after 
a week's weary work. Had the railroad not been in existence 
thus early, there is no doubt that the people of the whole 
section of the beach county, would, in seasons of scarcity, 
have been in danger of starvation. 

The railroad is so inseparably bound up with the pros- 
perity of Atlantic City, that we may have occasion to 
refer to it, incidentally, in the future pages of this book. 
Setting, therefore, the reader's mind at rest, in regard to 



*The present Directors of the Camden and Atlantic Kailrond, are Robert 
Frazcr, President, Camden Co. N. J., Stephen Colwell, A. .T. Antelo and W. D. 
]Jell, Philadelphia; Andrew K. Hay, W'inslow, N. J.; S. Richards, Jackson, N. 
J.; Jonathan l>itney, Enoch Dou};lity, Absecon, N. J.; Joseph W. Cooper, 6. 
W. Carpenter, Camden, N. J. ; H. II. Boody, Jas. N. Potter, S. O. Wheeler, Jr., 
New York. The other officprs of the Company, are, G. W. N. Custis, Esq., 
General Superintendent; Horace Whiteman, Esq., Secretary and Treasurer ; I). 
II. Mundy, Esq., General Ticket Agent, Camden. 



45 

tlie stupid farmer, by informing the public that the 
"market wagon has not yet been hitched on behind the 
train on market days," we respectfully take our leave of 
the iron horse for the present, hoping that his snort of 
enterprise, and puff of power, may long live to lend the 
music and enchantment of advancing civilization, to the 
wilds of New Jersey. 



CHAPTER VI. 



|f|e pA§ini |itg. 



The present city is situated upon Absecon Island, a 
distance of seven miles from tlie mainland. It faces tlie 
ocean to tlie south-eastward. Atlantic is sixty-two miles 
by railroad from Philadelphia, and is of easy access, there 
being two trains daily, to and from the former city, with 
which there is also direct telegraph communication. 

The entire beach was composed of a succession of sand 
heaps, thrown up by the heavy winter tides ; it therefore 
became necessary to level them, and gravel the projected 
streets. Continued efforts soon produced graded thorough - 
farec, possessing a hard and gravelly road-bed. Capital 
became rapidly invested in the erection of buildings, and 
Atlantic City now presents to the visitor, all the attributes 
of a thriving well-appointed " city by the sea."" 

46 



47 

Approaching Atlantic City by railroad, we enter upon 
the salt meadows, immediately upon leaving Absecon 
village. Here the sea-siders are first apprised of their 
near approach to the ocean, by their involuntary inhala- 
tion of the salt air. The effect of such an atmosphere 
upon the system, is both exhilarating and stimulating, 
besides being gratefully refreshing, not only to the in- 
valid, but to the robust in health. Passing rapidly over 
the meadows, a distance of seven miles, we find ourselves 
in Atlantic Avenue, the principal street of the city, and 
upon either side of which are erected the principal 
hotels, boarding houses, private cottages, stores, churches 
and market houses. The passenger cars of the railway 
pass slowly up this broad roadway, on which they stop 
opposite each hotel sufficient time to allow passengers to 
alight. By a judicious system of regulating the stop- 
pages, each hotel is placed upon the same footing as its 
neighbors, so that passengers are alternately delivered at 
the lower and upper end of the city. 

,From any position of the island, the view of the sea 
is unobstructed, and as Atlantic City faces the south, 
from which come the prevailing summer winds, there is 
invariably a direct sea breeze during midsummer, and the 
air is so remarkably dry and pleasant, that invalids who 



48 

are unable to remain at other watering places on account 
of the dampness of the atmosphere, derive great benefits 
from the clear pure air, for which Atlantic City has 
become proverbial. 

The growth of the sea-girt city has been extraordinary. 
The population during June, July and August, is about 
thirty-five to forty thousand people. There are three 
churches — a Methodist, a Roman Catholic and a Presby- 
terian, two Aldermen, a City Clerk, a Mayor, and all 
other concomitants of civic importance. 

Thus, enterprise, the best of conservatives, because the 
best leveller of old abuses, and the best conservator of 
existing benefits, has levelled the sand hills, dried the 
swamps, laid out the town, and upon the land has built a 
city, the summer population of which does not fall far 
short of forty thousand souls — and all this has been done 
in the short space of sixteen years. 



CHAPTER VII. 



Oij Ijjglttltou^^c and tin M\^h. 



The amphibious banditti, that formerly fattened upon 
the misfortunes of their fellow beings, who suffered the 
hardships of the wrecks, were familiarly recognized by 
more civilized people as " Barnegat pirates." These con- 
sisted of desperate characters, who in a great measure 
resembled that small class of " dog-gun-and-nigger poor 
whites," of the South, who subsisted before the war by 
shooting and fishing. When wrecks were scarce, and 
false beacons failed in the performance of their required 
duty, these diabolical specimens of the genus liomo^ lived 
the lives of wandering "bummers," peripateticating be- 
tween Absecon village and the beach, and occasionally 
oystering and fishing, to preserve the connecting link 
between the soul and body. They were a set of wretches 

49 



50 

wlio cared for nothing animate or inanimate, save tlieir 
own individual selves. Whenever the news of a wreck 
reached these people, they, eager for the " main chance," 
rushed in crowds to the beach. To this day, the visitor 
at Atlantic will hear of strange, wild incidents, that oc- 
curred in years gone by upon this sandy waste. The old 
stagers, now hanging upon the verge of life, and ready at 
any moment for their final leap into the unknown yonder, 
will relate around the evening fires, how the wild, half 
savage wrecker held sway of all around him, save the 
waves from which he drew his livelihood — how, crushed 
and sinking beneath the surf, the wild cry of the death 
struggle from the doomed wreck, was heard to mingle 
with the hoarse roar of oaths; how the demoniac yell of 
fiendish delight emanated from the lungs of the despica- 
ble wreckers, while seizing and discussing their ill-gotten 
spoils. Many of the accounts of wrecks, that have been 
preserved in the manuscript from which we gleaned the 
story of Leonarda and the Ocean Grirl, are full of both 
romantic incident and absorbing interest, and although 
they must lose much of their pith and point, owing to the 
horribly inacurate and illegible manner in which the man- 
uscript record has been kept, yet we have determined to 
buckle to the work of solving the Atlantine inscriptions, 
and of our success the reader alone can be the judge. 



51 

The wrecks of which Absecon beach has been the 
jwint d'appui, are very numerous, and the heartrending 
circumstances attending them are very many. Though 
tragedy, sadness and laceration are the principal themes 
upon which we must necessarily touch when intent upon 
such a business, yet we are assured that the story of 
suffering cannot be without interest, but that on the con- 
trary, it can only tend to soften the feelings and render 
the emotions subservient to the purposes of the Creator. 

Since the completion and improvement of the light- 
house, there have been but few wrecks ; and little loss of 
life has taken place thereby. In 1830, the " Gherge's 
KJian" was totally destroyed off the beach j the majority of 
the passengers were saved, among whom was a little child of 
nine years of age, that was afterwards restored to joyous 
parents who lived far out in the wilds of the then almost 
unexplored west. Captain Busk, however, who com- 
manded the vessel, committed a determined suicide. 
When the wreck-boats had been placed safely within his 
grasp, he spurned the offerings of Providence, and with fixed 
teeth and a face indicative of strong mental agony, he 
plunged into the water and sank to rise no more alive. It 
has ever since been supposed that he lacked the moral 
cpurage to face the underwriters. A few years after this, 



52 

the John Willcts was a total wreck upon the coast. One 
man floated ashore who had been frozen to death ; and 
Mr. Robinson, who has since taught school in Absecon 
village, was another survivor of the ill-fated barque. 

In 1845, Captain Faircloyke's Rainhoio was wrecked, 
but no person at Atlantic City could give us any details 
of the attending circumstance, which we know were un- 
pleasant enough. 

The next year a most harrowing aflfair was occasioned 
in a very simple manner. A small schooner had been 
wrecked, and when the attention of the beach people had 
been called to the perilous condition of those aboard, the 
wreck-boat was duly despatched to render what assistance 
soever was possible. The tide had gone out, so that 
there was no risk in attempting to land. As the wreck- 
boat approached the scene of the disaster, the cries for 
help were more and more distressing. The confusion 
became multiplied to such an extent, that although the 
captain and his few sailors and passengers were soon 
safely transferred, yet in the midst of the excitement, the 
skipper's wife had fallen beneath the waves. As the fog 
was exceedingly dense, the accident was not observed, 
until the ghastly and bleeding body rose to the surface. 
Ilcr throat was cut by her own watch chain — an anom- 



53 

alous appendage upon the wife of a schooner captain, 
but then she came from a land where the softer sex, no 
matter how poor they may be, always manage to take the 
jeweler in the round of " shopping." The skipper was 
ever after a disappointed man. Before, he had been lively 
and jolly, but since the loss of his New England consort, 
"he could laugh nevermore." He refused to again take 
command of a ship. He gathered all his earnings to- 
gether and emigrated to the west His friends say he is 
crazy, and indeed they are not without grounds for their 
supposition; for, in a quiet village, of a quiet county, in 
one of the great States of the mighty west, and in front 
of a hotel, you will see a man apparently about fifty- 
six years of age seated beside a mastiff. The dog always 
shows more intelligence than his master, who rarely 
speaks to any person. Though the ex-captain cannot be 
called a very old man, he is very garrulous, but has "fits 
of lucidity " at times. It was in one of these fits that we 
were so lucky as to encounter him. We immediately 
compared his narrative with that of the old woman, and 
the two were so substantially the same, that we preferred 
to relate that of the garrulous "fifty-sixer;" and in his 
own words, so that if it be uninteresting, the reader will 
please spend his vindictive force upon the " old bore" and 



54 

not upon the writer. In that scat, in front of the occi- 
dental hotel aforesaid, Captain Slowe, (for that is his 
name,) passes away each day, except at such times as 
once in three months he goes on foot a distance of one 
mile, to collect a little interest upon the money he has 
lent on mortgage. His usual occupation while thus 
seated, is reading over and over about a dozen different 
times, the JVcio York Ledger, the Home Weekli/, of Phila- 
delphia, and the Lacrosse Democrat. The old "buflfer" 
peruses advertisements, prospectus, and in fact the entire 
papers. During his reading, if closely observed, he will 
be seen at times to look abstractedly from his newspaper, 
stare at the clouds and exclaim in frantic transport : 
" Maria ! Maria ! Watch chain, Atlantic City, jVnc Yoric 
Ledger, help I 3Irs. Southworth, help ! " If you watch 
him during these performances, it will be found that his 
wandering ruminations are perpetrated about every three- 
quarters of an hour ; and that once a year, on a certain 
day at the hour of noon, the mastiff joins in and helps the 
master, by a terrific howl. Reader ! strange as it may ap- 
pear, that howl is always given on the anniversary of the 
cutting of the throat of the skipper's wife, and not only 
upon the anniversary, but at the very same hour in which 
tlie last sight of his dead spouse was allowed the poor 



55 

harmless lunatic captain. This truly is stranger than 
fiction.* 

It is not forgetfulness that has kept us thus fiir from in- 
troducing the reader to the scene of a wreck, the slightest 
detail of which cannot but call up our tenderest pity. It 
was on a cold bleak morning in the severe spring of 1854, 
that the inhabitants of Atlantic City might behold a stout 
but disabled barque struggling with the waves, the quick- 
sands and the furious winds off Long Beach, like some 
brave but weary traveler, who, despite decision and vigor, 
falls prostrate to the influence of hardship and foul 
weather. 'Twas but a phase of life. There is no place 
or person — nothing in life, where we do not discover the 
quicksands of human misery. We look with pity to-day 
on the fate that may be ours to-morrow. The Potohatfan, 
the barque that now struggles before us, but yesterday 
buffeted the breakers and rode triumphant, regardless of 
the trident, now kneels imploringly to the power, which 
but some hours ago she scorned. 

She belongs to Baltimore, and is bound from Havre 
with a cargo of merchandise, and three hundred and 
eleven souls, the fated bulk of whom are emigrants. They 
have left their all behind them, save the small solid solace 



*Since writing the above, we regret to learn tluit tlie muster and mastiff 
both died npou the same day, one year ago. 



5G 

needful to start new life in the New World. They have 
left the old and the very young at home. Some, too, 
have left their little ones behind them in the ancient 
world, and some brave hearted fellows have left their 
wives, in the determination to carve golden happiness from 
the mines of the widely puffed California. They start 
out with high hopes of bright and happy days. In their 
fond fancies, the golden gates of futurity open, under the 
pressure of gilded rocks, resplendent for their reception. 
The ftiir weather and unmackereled skies, feed their em- 
bryotic appetites with the pleasures that are to be in the 
" good time coming." For several days they enjoy reve- 
ries of such delectable opiatism. But. in the midst of 
enjoyment we are in sorrow, and the bright sunshine of 
to-day's pleasure is changed to the murky misery of the 
morrow. When the Powhattan is eighteen days upon 
old Neptune's main, the captain's usual suavity of manner 
has forsaken him, he wears a firm, determined aspect, the 
signs of an approaching storm arc visible in the heavens, 
ere long the elements are aroused, and a terrible 
gale is blowing from the northeast. The barque is 
driven ashore off Long Beach. The wreckers are for a 
moment in high glee, in the hope that the sorrows of the 
Powhattan may be their own enjoyment. A snow shower 



57 

comes on, the ship is tossed from stem to stern, the cries 
of the passengers are heard upon the shore, but it is 
death to man the wreck-boat. A few resolute spirits, 
whose judgment is put in abeyance to their feelings, as- 
sume the arduous task, and make their way toward the 
doomed vessel. The rest of the narrative we give in the 
words of the captain of the wreck-boat : 

" When we arrived within about 200 yards of her, the 
wind had veered, and the sea ran so high that we were 
unable to pull the boat any further, notwithstanding all 
our exertions. This was about six o'clock in the evening, 
and the vessel had first been visible on shore at about 
noon on the same day. Finding further progress impossible, 
and fearing for the boat's life, we let go one anchor and 
showed a light, which was joyfully answered; this we 
repeated three times. "VVe afterwards beheld the crew 
assembled on the quarter-deck, when they uttered a 
dreadful shout for assistance and fired two muskets. Soon 
afterwards they were seen apparently in great consterna- 
tion, hurrying about the decks. Presently they were 
seen to set fire to a tur cask. This made an excellent 
signal, and had the movement been made at first, we 
should have been able to render them assistance. As it 
was, we made the best signal we could for them to lower 



58 

tlieir boat and make for us, but as they did not attempt 
it, we bave reason to believe that their boats bad been 
carried away. The light kept burning till about eleven 
o'clock, when the sea broke so heavily over them that it 
disappeared. Next came on a terrific snow shower. The 
white flakes thickened every instant ; more and more the 
wind whistled, as if in piteous mockery of the sufferers ; 
the sea rolled furiously and lashed the fated ship." The 
cries from the Pou-hattan at this time were terrible, and 
all the attending horrors — the darkness of the night, only 
relieved by the falling snow, the curses of the wreckers 
on shore, and the fearful shouts of distress from the 
barque, would have afforded another " blind old poet" an 
excellent theme for immortalizing Atlantic City in a new 
production upon the horrors of the polnphloisboio tJialasses. 
The captain's narrative proceeds: "At about twelve, 
midnight, the barque capsized, and we had the distressing 
spectacle of the unfortunate emigrants and crew perishing, 
without being able to render them any assistance. Their 
last cries were beyond description. In a few moments 
she broke up, and we were surrounded with wreck, but 
could not find any of the crew. From a chest picked up, 
she appears to have been the Poichattan, of Baltimore, 
bound from Havre, with a cargo of merchandise, and 
conveying three hundred aud eleven passengers." 



59 

To give a detailed account of all tlie wrecks tliat have 
occurred upon Absecon and Brigantine beaclies, would 
be impossible witbin our present space, neither would i*" 
comport with the object of the book A list of the most 
important ones must suffice the reader. 

The Santiago dl Cuba ran ashore on Long Beach, in 
the fall of 1867. Seven persons were drowned, including 
three women, two sailors, a girl, ten years of age, and her 
mother. The child's body was washed ashore some days 
after the catastrophe. The corpse was kept until such 
time as a zinc coffin could be procured, and communica- 
tion made with deceased's relatives, who at that time lived 
in Delphi, Illinois. When the grandfather of the child, 
an old man about seventy-five years of age, heard of the 
fate of his daughter and grand-daughter, he became 
hopelessly insane, and died six weeks after the sad news 
reached him. A Welshman rescued from the ship, re- 
turned to his own country, and an Irish girl that had ac- 
cumulated a small fortune in California, was among the 
misfortunate seven on the present occasion. The other 
female, who was consigned to a watery grave, was a 
southern lady, that had been married but a few weeks. 
The people of the beach report that her husband became 
unmanned. He mourned and moaned for his wife, and 



60 

like Rachel sorrowing for her little ones, "refused to be 
comforted" because "his wife was not." About three 
months afterwards, a Michigan woman, whose husband 
had been missing for some time, appeared at Atlantic 
City, and with the most perfect nonchalance, made 
inquiry concerning the sailors that had been lost. The 
body of one had been washed ashore, and a descrip- 
tion was given her, so far as such a thing was practi- 
cable. She concluded that the description answered com- 
pletely to her "long lost" husband, and proceeded to 
calculate how much he should have drawn in the way of 
pay since he left her, provided he had joined the ship 
about the time their connubial bliss proceeded upon a 
journey in an elevated direction through a spout. She 
also conjectured upon the propriety of remarrying. She 
did so. She succeeded in obtaining from the vessel's 
owners the back pay due her liege lord — retired to Michi- 
gan, and took to herself a husband. These proceedings 
showed her strong-mindedness, on account of the " des- 
patch " with which they were taken, and clearly demon- 
strated the right of women to the ballot. But the nicest 
schemes of juice and men arc often doomed to a cruel 
counteraction, and how consciously if not conscientiously 
must she have stood confounded, when, in about six weeks, 



61 

her dead determinor disgusted lier with his dchnf from the 
section or sphere of the spirits. She did not sing " Home, 
sweet Home," but she cursed that individual soundly for 
the hallucination he had practised, to restore her rejected 
relative. She has changed her religion from Spiritualism 
to Swedebosity, (a modified form of the same complaint,) 
and though she clings to husband No. 2, she declares 
that were it not for an embryotic connecting link, she 
would cut both husbands, and retire to the spirit world, 
where she might find her congenial alter ego. 

Another wreck, that of the PoUy Whimple, took 
place sometime prior to the last mentioned. A stupid 
attempt was made to land before the tide went out. The 
result of this fool-hardy enterprise, was, that a boatful of 
women was swamped, and that several men lost their lives 
in fruitless attempts to rescue the women. A rich lady 
who had about one thousand dollars' worth of rings upon 
her fingers, would have been drowned, but for the heroic 
conduct of a waterman, who risked his own life to save 
hers. The same brave fellow was drowned in an attempt 
to save another woman's life. The husband of the 
wealthily ringed woman had not even thanked the sailor 
for bringing him his wife, and now that he was drowned, 
the Dives aforesaid, never so much as enquired where the 



G2 

sailor's family resided, or whether they had been left in 
destitute circumstances. 

The schooner General Scott, was wrecked off Long 
Beach in 1840. The captain was the only person saved, 
and he floated ashore upon a feather bed, upon which he 
must have had a roundabout journey of more than 
fifteen miles. 

On January 13th, 185G, the Charles Colgate, of New 
York, ran ashore, and became a total wrjeck. The crew, 
however, were saved by the life-boat. 

On the 25th of February, 1858, the Flying Dutchman 
went to pieces at nearly the same spot, where the Colgate 
broke. No lives were lost. 

On the 21st of November, 1851, the barqua Baldin, of 
Southport, bound for New York, with a cargo of cotton 
and merchandise, ran ashore, with her mast cut away; 
and water-logged. 

The following list of arrivals at the Jersey beaches, 
from 1817 to 185G, are as correct a statement as can be 
made up from the only document before us; and it is 
almost impossible to be read. Some of these vessels were 
total wrecks, others got safely ofi", but as it is not stated in 
every case, we give the reader all the information we have 
been able to glean ourselves. 



63 

September 29tli, 1847, the brig Patapsco^ laden with 
molasses, ran ashore on Long Beach, 

September 30th, Ann^ o^ New Orleans, laden with coal, 
ran ashore on Brigantine Beach. 

On the 16th of December, 1847, the schooner Nile, 
ran ashore on Brigantine Beach. She was laden with 
mahogany. Mss. deficient, consequently it is impossible 
to relate the results. 

On the same day, schooner Mississippi, of Hanrich, took 
shelter in the inlet. She was laden with corn, peas and 
beans. Mss. deficient. Here there is a long gap in the 
old lady's account, and the next entry we find, is that of 
the British schooner Ida, Captain Roberts, bound whether 
for St. John's, N. F., or St. John's, N. B., is impossible to 
determine. This entry is dated January 2d, 1849. Mss. 
deficient. On the 25th January, 1849, ran ashore, the 
barque Mari/ Ellen, of New York. Mss. deficient. On 
St. Patrick's day, 1849, the barque Chester, of New 
Orleans, Captain Robinson, ran ashore. Mss. deficient. 
November 25th, 1849, ran ashore, the schooner Walter 
A. Merchant, of Washington, N. C. Laden with naval 
stores and shingles. Mss. deficient. December 25th, 
schooner Brook Haven, of Newport, from Norfolk, Va., 
bound to Fall Eiver, Mass., ran ashore. Mss. defi- 
cient. 



G4 

IN 1850. 

January 4th, ran ashore, the schooner Independence^ of 
Washington, N. C. Laden with naval stores. Got off 
the next morning. May 5th, schooner James A. Sanders, 
of Hampton, Va., Captain Fennis. Laden with oysters, 
bound for Staten Island. Mss. deficient. May Gth, brig 
Four Brothers, of Philadelphia, ran ashore, with deck 
stove in. Load lessened and she got off. May 18th, 
schooner Vermillion, of N. Y. Laden with coal. Got 
off next night. 

Here are the names of several vessels, that cannot be 
read with any degree of certainty, on account of the 
almost illegible manner in which the record has been 
kept. 

December 9th, brig ReppUer, of Boston. Coal; bound 
for New York. Mss. deficient. 

IN 1851. 

On January 25th, a New York barque, name unde- 
cipherable, ran ashore. Mss. deficient. February, (no 
day of the month given,) sloop Elizabeth Ann, of Rock- 
away. Mss. deficient. February 22d, barque Kirkwood, 
Baltimore; Captain Martin. Ashore on Brigantine; from 
Rio. Laden with coffee. Mss. deficient. April Gth, 
Swedish barque Emili/, ashore about six miles below 



65 

Absecon bar. Bound for New York. Mss. deficient. 
August 18th, schooner Sioux, (Mss. Sio,) of Great Egg 
Harbor. Laden with coal. Mss. deficient. September 
11th, Romaline, on south side of Absecon inlet. Mss. de- 
ficient. October 4th, sloop Patriarch, of Long Island. 
Mss. deficient. October 27th, brig Edward Prexel, of 
Boston, ashore. Mss. deficient. 

November 21st, brig Baldin, of Southport, (vide sup.') 
November 16th, barque Brasalcro, from Cadiz, (^Shagirs 
in Mss.) Got off next morning. 

IN 1832. 

January 29th, brig Wm. Rogers, of Boston, from Brazil, 
bound for Boston. Ashore on Absecon bar, north side. 
Got off same day through the exertions of Ryan Adams. 
November IGth, schooner 3Iarshall, Mss. deficient. No- 
vember 25th, barque Mataforda, of New York, in the 
inlet. Mss. deficient. December 8th, schooner Rainhoio. 
Total wreck. All lives saved but seven, (vide sup.') 
December 23d, schooner Ellen Matilda, of Calais. Bound 
to Philadelphia ; ran ashore about four o'clock in the 
morning; got off same night through the exertions of 
Byan Adams. 

The manuscript has entries of twelve vessels during 
1853, but it is impossible to make out whether any of 



66 

them were wrecked or got oiF to sea. Also entries of 
seven vessels in 1854, among which is that of the 
Poichaftan, (i^lde sup.) Sometime after July, 1855, the 
Seaman's Friend capsized off the beach, and all on board 
perished before assistance could be rendered them from 
the shore. The manuscript has nine entries in 1855. 
The only entry in 1856, is that of the New York schooner 
Charles Colr/ate, which was a complete wreck, but the 
crew were saved by the life-boat. We regret, that owing 
to the irregular manner in which the records have been 
kept at the beach, we are not able to present a more com- 
plete list of the marine disasters that have taken place at 
Atlantic City. The first note-book that contained the 
information has been lost, and the manuscript before us 
is so utterly deficient in details, that we have preferred 
rather to present certainties, than attempt the elucidation 
of only positive transpirations. 

The great number of wrecks that were continually oc- 
curring upon the beach, caused Dr. Pitney to turn his at- 
tention to the absolute necessity that existed for the erec- 
tion of a proper lighthouse at Atlantic City. Again he 
had to fight prejudice, and especially the prejudice against 
improvements, that at that time reigned supreme among 
the grannies of the Navy Department. 



67 

Away back between the years 1834 and 1840, the pro- 
posal was first agitated. After a great waste of trouble 
and money, a Congressional appropriation of $5000 was at 
last voted, upon the proviso, that a satisfactory report 
should first be made by a competent official of the Navy 
Department. Commodore La Valette was commissioned to 
make the aforesaid report. He visited the beach, exam- 
ined the coast, and requested a letter from Dr. Pitney on 
the subject. In this letter, Dr. P. explained his oicii 
original notion of prismatic lights, for which the French 
optician, Fresnel, obtained a patent ten years afterwards. 
Notwithstanding the exertions of Dr. Pitney, the Com- 
modore made an unfavorable report, and the lighthouse 
project slept for several years. 

The Doctor, however, was far from being disheartened 
by his first failure, and the same pluck that characterized 
his railroad and land schemes, was again called into play. 
In 1853, after the railroad had been surveyed, and his 
hands were in a manner full, he started the lighthouse 
question again. With his own hands he circulated peti- 
tions for signature, and besides wrote to congressmen and 
published articles in the newspapers, advocating the 
project. The result of these labors was the granting of 
an appropriation of $35,000 for a lighthouse, and an ad- 



68 

ditiopal one of $5,000 for a buoy. Tlius, Atlantic lias 
to-day one of the best lighthouses in the country — which, 
with the recent improvements, cost upwards of fifty 
thousand dollars in the aggregate. The buoy, however, 
has disappeared. The contract for this portion of the 
work was let out to an unprincipled person, who purchased 
an old flat-bottomed boat, for the purpose of fulfilling his 
obligations. One stormy night, Proteus took a fancy to 
this combination of antiquated " wooden walls," and 
carried it ofi" to the bottom of the sea, where it now 
quietly remains. 

The inlet at Atlantic City has always been a favorite 
shelter for vessels drawing less than twelve feet of water. 
The " oldest inhabitant" remembers that one day in the 
year 1835, one hundred and thirty-six crafts of this de- 
scription, and again upon St. Patrick's day, 1840, sixty 
vessels availed themselves of this privilege. The saod 
bar is at present the only obstacle that lies in the way of 
Atlantic City becoming a port of entry ; but Mr. Gr. W. N. 
Custis, the respected Superintendent of the Camden and 
Atlantic Kailway, informed the writer, that the erection of 
a suitable break-water would in a great measure obviate 
this difficulty. 

The surf has for some years been gradually eating 



69 

away the land in front of the lighthouse, and without the 
speedy erection of the necessary break-water, or a deposit 
of stones sufficient to counteract the influences of the sea, 
the lighthouse will in a short time stand in imminent 
danger of destruction. The people of Atlantic, foresee- 
ing this, have united in application to Congress, respect- 
fully soliciting the necessary aid for the carrying out of 
such works as shall effectually protect the most exposed 
portion of the island. The beach in one part is so far 
gone, that the grounds surrounding the lighthouse, are 
wholly submerged whenever the wind blows with any 
violence from the east or northeast, and during its contin- 
uance, the family of the lighthouse keeper are completely 
imprisoned, and he and his assistants are compelled to 
wade through water while discharging their duties. 
Private property also suffers severely when these inunda- 
tions take place. It is to remedy these evils that 
Congress has been petitioned. 



CHAPTER VII 



|hc |ifit |t?cl||-|H |opog^.pI^lr, H 



The resident population of Atlantic City is about fire 
liuudred. These people, like the inhabitants of Baden- 
Baden and all watering places, generally la^ «J^'in the 
winter, and reap the harvest in the summer. The princi- 
pal difference between the summers at Atlantic City and 
those at Baden-Baden, is, that at the former place, the 
time-killers and pleasure-seekers have not as yet succeeded 
in introducing that concomitant of European watering 
place civilization, known as the fashionable gaming table. 
In other respects, Atlantic City is, if possible, the more 
entertaining of the two. 

It contains a MciJ/or : The present incumbent of this 
office is the urbane and gentlemanly ]Mr. David W. 
Belisle. 

70 



71 

The other civic worthies are : 

C WILLIAM S. CARTER. 
Aldermen: < City Recorder: 

I JACOB MIDDLETON. 

SILAS R. MORSE. ) f JOSEPH A. BARSTOW. 

ROBERT T. EVARD, f Councllmen : ^ JOSEPH H. BARTON. 
CHALK. S. LEEDS, i i JOSEPH SHINNER. 

City Treasurer: JONAS HIGBEE. 
City Clerk: EDWARD S. REED. 

To the last named gentleman our thanks are particu- 
larly due for much valuable local information. 

The City that, but fourteen years ago, had only one 
house of public entertainment, now boasts its hundred 
hotels and boarding houses, its carriages at city rates, its 
private villas, its thriving railroad, and its by no means 
insignificant commerce. 

The principal hotels are : 

SURF HOUSE. I CONGRESS HALL. 

UNITED STATES HOTEL. | MANSION HOUSE. 

Comfort, tranquility and seaside elegance, can be found 
in abundance at the Surf. The combination of pleasure, 
comfort, and the luxury of a shady park, awaits the guest 
of the "United States;" while at Congress Hall, 
gaiety, hops, jolly life and all the sweets of good digestion 
wait upon the visitor. Those, who at Atlantic City seek 



'2 



the real pleasure to be derived from nightly hops, card 
parties, and social amusements, usually patronize the 
whole-souled, whole-hearted Mr. Henckle, who, during 
the past season, has improved Congress Hall, at an 
expense of several thousand dollars. The Surf, too, 
holds out all the inducements of a first-class hotel, as 
well as the happiness of a home. 
The other hotels of importance are : 



NEPTUNE HOUSE. 
LIGHT HOUSE COTTAGE. 
ALHAMBRA. 
WHITE HOUSE. 
SEA SIDE HOUSE. 



CLARENDON HOUSE. 
ASHLAND HOUSE. 
GLENN'S INLET HOUSE. 
KENTUCKY HOUSE. 
CHESTER CO. HOUSE. 



THE YELLOW COTTAGE. 

Persons who desire comfort with small expense, can be 
well entertained at any of the following establishments : 



BEDLOE'S HOTEL. 
PENNA, COTTAGE. 
COTTAGE RETREAT 
MACY HOUSE. 
REED HOUSE. 
ARCH ST. HOUSE. 
CONSTITUTION HOUSE. 



WEST PHILADA. HOUSE. 
BRADLEY HOUSE. 
SHERMAN HOUSE. 
EXCURSION HOUSE. 
GROVE COTTAGE. 
COLUMBIA HOUSE. 
SAND HOUSE. 



ATLANTIC HOUSE. 
Besides these we have designated by name, there are 
about twenty-five smaller houses of public entertainment. 



" 73 

including saloons, also about thirty or forty cottage board- 
ing houses. The City possesses a commodious school 
house, which is a more than ordinary country structure, 
and contains five departments of instruction. There are 
upwards of two hundred children upon the roll, and the 
average attendance is about one hundred and ten. The 
City raises three thousand dollars per annum for educa- 
tional purposes. Mr. E. S. Keed, the City Clerk, and 
the druggist of the place, has been the superintendent 
of the school for the past seven years. The churches, as 
we have previously stated, are three in number. The 
Presbyterian and Catholic are of a Mlssionarrj character, 
service only being conducted during the summer months. 
The Methodist, however, manages to keep open " all the 
year round." 

The broad avenues that are called for oceans, run 
about half-way between northeast and east, and between 
southwest and west, while the cross streets, which have 
been called after states, run 22 J degrees west of north, 
and east of south. Kunning almost parallel with the sea, 
are Pacific, Atlantic (the principal street,) Arctic, Baltic, 
Mediterranean and Adriatic avenues. The other streets, 
twenty-nine in number, are named after the states, in 
geographical order, beginning at Maine. 
4 



The City grows every year, and commerce is to a cer- 
tain extent making its inroads upon the resident sleepers. 
A very large business is done in shipping the salt hay of 
the meadows to New York city, where it is employed for 
purposes of paper making and horse feed. 

Twelve miles from Atlantic City, is the celebrated Mul- 
lier river, between which and New York, a propeller 
makes regular trips, carrying glass, wool and other 
articles of New Jersey manufacture. New railroad facil- 
ities are at present on the tapis. A charter has been 
obtained for the building of a railroad between Absecon 
Inlet and Great Egg Harbor Inlet. This work, when 
finished, will run through the centre of the Island, and 
will confer additional benefits upon Atlantic City. A 
turnpike, too, is now building between Atlantic City and 
Pleasantville, by which, in a short time, there will be a 
complete road between Philadelphia and the beach. 

The principal amusement of Atlantic City, is of course, 
bathing. This will not be much information for the 
reader, but our object being to make a guide as well as a 
history, it must not be objected to that wc have introduced 
matters of such common concern. 

The beach is lined during the season with temporary 
bathing structures, but such is the force and inland reach 



75 

of the tide-swell during the winter, that it becomes im- 
perative to remove them beyond high water mark; and 
a few weeks before the summer season opens, the beach 
presents an animated scene of busy laborers, who are en- 
gaged in digging out from the accumulated sand drifts, 
the debris and ruins of scattered bath-houses. The 
winter of 1866-67 was unusually severe, and the swell of 
the tide extended nearly to Atlantic avenue, a distance of 
four hundred yards from the beach. 

All along the beach of the Inlet there is splendid fish- 
ing, at which amusement, many gentlemen find more 
pleasure than in playing with the, breakers. At low 
water, there is a splendid drive for ten miles along the 
surf, and carriages are always easily obtained at reason- 
able rates. 

A good view can always be obtained from the lighthouse, 
but visitors desirous of observing a fine expanse of sea- 
coast, should visit Dr. Pitney, at Absecon. From the cu- 
pola of the Doctor's residence, there is visible on a clear 
day. upwards of thirty-five miles of coast. 

The two beaches, i. e. Absecon and Brigantine, are 
about equal in extent, each being about ten miles in 
length. On Brigantine beach, about four miles from 
Atlantic City, there occurred five years ago, a fearful 



7r. 

trageJy. This is the only cold-blooded murder that has 
marred the simple quietude of the place. Plow many 
may be committed in the future it is impossible to tell, 
but let us hope that this Turner tragedy may be the first 
and last. 

Turner was an oysterman. One Grandy followed the 
same business. The former attended to his occupation, 
and was successful. He made the rocks with a degree of 
celerity that caused the jealous soul of Gandy, who 
worked hard but raised no " stamps," to swell, until it 
reached the dimensions of the spiritual portion of the 
celebrated Mr. Gloster's construction. The green-eyed 
monster now transmogrified the quiet going Gandy into a 
combination of Dr. Webster, Dick the three, and Lucre- 
tie Borgia's henchman. With his soul thus fortified, he 
was prepared for a final dash to retrieve his fortune, or to 
use a new quotation " perish in the attempt." 

Dick aforesaid, was however, a respectable life-taker, 
compared with the miserable hero of this bloody, brigand- 
ish business on Brigantine Beach. Richard was a polite 
and elegant murderer. He could send men to take 
pleasant and comfortable lodgings in the tower, that 
William the Norman originated in the shape of a fortress. 
When Dick's victims were enjoying the luxuries and 



77 

pleasures of secluded retirement in the aforesaid place, 
Kichard used to employ common cases to do the finishing 
part of murderous manufacture. Even the tool Tyrrel, 
was not such a low individual as Mr. Gandy. Then 
again, Dr. Webster did the business in a scientific and 
professional manner, by the use of, in the first place, the 
Lord knows what, and in the second place, a laboratory 
furnace. This was simply the reduction of man to his 
natural elements, and a striking scientific proof of the in- 
destructibility, if not of matter, certainly of teeth. Even 
the janitor, to whom Doctor W. gave a turkey, in com- 
memoration of his exploit, was a gentleman compared to 
Mr. Gandy. Lucretia Borgia was a fine woman in many 
respects, and though her poisoner was a scamp, the said 
Mr. Gandy was a good deal scamper. 

Townsend, the brave and heroic highway robber, who, 
ten years ago, scared the simple-minded Scotchmen of 
Upper Canada from Toronto to Sandwich, was respected 
in his generation, for he only embarked in the killing 
business, when self defence necessitated his "observation 
of the case in those lamps." All these combined, would 
not make such a mean miscreant as Brigantine Gandy. 
But we have been hitherto enlarging on the subject with- 
out hitting it, and this last is an important matter, for if 



78 

you dou't hit your subject, you are no account to the 
reader. The fault now-a-days is, that so few hit their 
subject wliere they ought to. Members of Congress are 
requested to take notice of this last remark, and govern 
their peculiarly spoiled selves accordingly. Here we are 
at last arrived at the 

BRIGANTINE MURDER. 
Turner had succeeded so well, that he had managed to 
build himself a comfortable house upon a spot, at that 
pnrt of the lower end of Brigantine Beach that was most 
favorable for carrying on the business of an oysterman. 
By dint of energy and perseverance, he had managed to 
accumulate a small amount of money, which he hid 
underneath the earth, below a board in the floor of his 
neat but small habitation. Gandy, who had been unsuc- 
cessful in the business of an oysterman, had been taken 
into the confidence of Turner. Now, Gandy was an 
older man than Turner, and could not bear that the more 
enero-etic, but younger individual should exceed him in 
the possession of oysterial wealth. The result of these 
agitations produced a determination in the breast of 
Gandy to transcend all laws, in the hope of winning re- 
venge. Accordingly, one dark and stormy night, while 
the wind whistled and the thunder rolled — while the 



79 

lightning flaslied, and all the artillery of the " unending 
heavens" burst forth in wild, malignant fury, this arch- 
fiend fired the peaceful home of the Turner family, and 
by the foul deed murdered two individuals he intended to 
save. Exasperated beyond measure by being cheated of 
his prey, he fired his remaining shot at the daughter of 
Turner, and wounded her fearfully in the arm. The 
wretch next performed the most sensible part of the 
tragedy that was possible, and after having put off to sea 
in a skiff, he wisely chose the nobile letum Catonis, and 
by the wholesome application of a little powder and ball, 
he succeeded in depositing his animal brains upon the 
skiff's bottom. His last words were "Revenge is sweet." 
He did not say that "Revenge was a delicacy of life," for 
those words were not in his vocabulary He was, how- 
ever, cheated of much of his revenge, for the daughter of 
Turner, whom he left for dead, jtill lives, a "prosperous 
lady." This is the only murder that has occurred upon 
this beach since its original settlement by the Caucasian 
race. 



CHAPTER IX. 



Iroiuih o( l^ountriy on J^ailroiul liniJ. 



As has been already stated, the country through which 
the line of railroad was surveyed, was for the greater part 
an almost unbroken wilderness. That enterprise, how- 
ever, which is always consequent upon the consummation of 
such a work, was soon infused into the sleeping population. 
After leaving Camden, in one of the commodious six new 
passenger cars that have been built this season, the first 
stopping place of the train, is the antiquated but inter- 
esting town of Haddonfield, which has improved in a 
great degree, though not in the same ratio as the other 
villages upon the railroad line. 

The principal reason for this, is, that Haddonfield, by 
reason of both its shady situation and picturesque simpli- 
city, has always presented a pleasing place for the erection 
of private villas. Thriving city men, who desired that 

80 



81 

their families should bo brought up sufficiently far from 
the city to enjoy the delights of life among rural demes- 
'nes, and sufficiently near, to place comparative luxuries 
within easy reach, were not slow to turn the advantages of 
such a place to good account. Thus, Haddonfield, with 
its surrounding farms, holding a population of nearly two 
thousand souls, may be set down as a delightful adjunct to 
the suburbs of Philadelphia. The result of Haddonfield's 
becoming a place of residence, rather than a spot wherein 
to transact business, was, that no manufactories, such as 
exist in other Jersey towns, are found there. Agriculture, 
however, and stock-raising, have been well attended to all 
along the Haddonfield tract. Mr. Charles H. Shinn has 
long lived a lusty rus in urhe life, and with truly Roman 
pride, such as was possessed by the brave husbandman 
Dictators of old, feels happier in the simple pleasures of 
superintending his unparalleled Alderneys, than he does 
in his counting house in Philadelphia. His son, Captain 
Shinn, who has gained no little distinction on many a 
well fought battle-field during the recent conflict, is one of 
the most respected of Philadelphia's merchants, and ranks 
among the honored local celebrities of Haddonfield. 

Messrs. Collins, Kay, Walton, Willetts, Joseph 
"Withers and Hopkins, are among the principal villa 



82 

owners. Among the other prominent citizens, are Judge 
Clements, a man with a whole soul, (which is a rare thing 
in the present era of the world,) Colonel Peyton and 
Captain Sower. The two last are "war-worn veterans." 
We had almost forgotten the genial Dr. Burnell and the 
witty Edwin P. Graham. When the last named gentle- 
man pufifs his cigar and " quaffs his exhilarations," in the 
evening, after the clouds of night dim the dome that rests 
upon the forest trees, then will the starry stillness be 
broken by the sparkling flashes of Edwin's jocularity. 

There is a sad story in the annals of Haddonficld — we 
did not hear it from a native of that place — indeed we 
much doubt whether any present resident of Haddonfield 
could give the correct version of the tragic tale. We 
heard it from an oysterman, who probably told it to feed 
his own vanity, and kept repeating it to feed the vanity of 
his brother oysterists, and minister to their pleasure. 

Many years ago there lived upon Absecon beach, an 
oysterman named Thomas Durch. He accumulated a 
small fortune, the product of close attention to his busi- 
nesss, and gave his only son, whom he called for Thomas 
Jefferson, an excellent primary education. The boy early 
showed an aptitude for business, and was steadily making 



83 

his way in lifci wlien he uadertook to make a journey to 
New York. On his tour, as luck would have it, he was 
obliged to remain at the hotel in Haddonfield, for a period 
of about a fortnight. There chanced to be stopping at 
the same hotel, a middle-aged lady with her daughter. 
Thomas Jeiferson Durch made considerable advancement 
towards winning the young lady's affection, during his 
short stay. • An attachment sprang up between the young 
people. They corresponded. Her father and mother ap- 
proved the union, till such time as her "governor's" 
name came to be mentioned as a probable candidate for 
Congress in Ohio. This turned the old fellow's head so 
completely, that he could no longer hear of the daughter 
of a probable Congresser being married to the son of a 
low oysterman. The would-be parliamentarian conse- 
quently intercepted the love letters between the parties, 
and ordered all further notions of matrimony to be dis- 
pelled from his daughter's mind. In this plight, Miss 
Augusta Haberdasher- left her father's house one night. 
After a long and wearisome journey, during which she 
required all her ingenuity to save herself from becoming a 
victim to the " oft repeated vigilance " of the jws.se comit- 
atus, she at last arrived at the same hotel in Haddonfield, 
where she first met her Thomas .Jefferson, etc., etc. She 



8i 

expected to find some letters for lier, as slio had directed 
Thomas, that in the event of any thing happening to in- 
terfere with their communications, he should write her at 
this hotel, where she would be sure to come in due time. 
She accordingly enquired for the desired missives, and 
was handed a batch of william-duxes. She read them 
through with the avidity usual, under such circumstances, 
and was making up her mind to visit her intdndcd, when 
the hoarse voice of the landlord was heard to exclaim: 
" Miss Gussy, another letter — somebody dead, I reckon — 
black edge !" She broke the seal with trembling hands, 
and read : 

" Theas is to infurm yer, that mi sun Tomus shot hisself last nite be- 
coz he hadlnt got no word from yer for a long time. Theas lines were 

ritt by a saier boy. his 

TOMUS X DURCH. 
Mark. 

NOTIS — The Blal< Eghe Cover wuz in Tomus' box. 

Augusta did not swoon, neither did she cry. She 
however, made a pilgrimage to the beach and attempted to 
drown herself, but finding drowning more unpleasant than 
she anticipated, she called to a wrecker to "save her or 
she'd perish," which he magnanimously did. She lived 
to marry a mutton-pie man, who afterwards became a 
United States Senator, and let us hope she lived and died 



85 

happily in spite of tlie sad memories that haunted her 
when her mind wandered to the sacred scenes that clus- 
tered around Haddonfield — those scenes that must have 
changed the glory of her heart's setting sun into a twi- 
light of sad feelings, in the latter years of her life. — 
This story in the above unconnected and rambling form, is 
precisely as the above-mentioned person related it to the 
writer. With these few remarks, we bid adieu to 
Haddonfield. * * * . * 

Sixteen and a-half miles from Camden, is the village of 
Long-a-Coming, which fourteen years ago contained three 
houses and a barn. The present population is upwards of 
four hundred. 

Twenty-three miles from Camden, we strike Waterford. 
a thriving town, sustained by a glass manufactory, and 
possessing a population of four hundred and fifty. Before 
the building of the railway, there were not more than 
eighty people in the settlement. 

Twenty-seven miles from Camden, stands the enter- 
prising settlement of Winslow, which is also supported by 
factories. The population, which now amounts to seven 
hundred and fifty, was not more than two hundred souls 
in 1856. 

Absecon village, where Dr. Pitney, the prominent 



86 

pioneer resides, originally had but sixty inhabitants. The 
population in 1867 was upwards of one hundred and 
seventy-five. 

Along this line was the settlement of Jackson, about 
a mile and a-half from the railroad. The village's trans- 
portation facilities are now supplied by. Jackson station, 
twenty miles from Camden. Glass manufacture has been 
for some time successfully carried on in this locality. The 
inhabitants of Jackson settlement, originally numbered 
three hundred and sixty-five. Near Jackson, were the 
colonies Gibbsborough, Tansboro, Weymouth, Ironworks 
and May's Landing. The aggregate number of people 
who occupied these crude villages was about one thousand. 
Besides these settlements, there was a narrow strip of land 
on both sides of the country roads running nearly parallel 
with, and from a quarter of a mile, to two miles distant 
from, the railroad. Along this strip, to the distance of 
about twenty-seven miles from Camden, there were for 
a long time no improvements in the then temporary settle- 
ments of wood-choppers. This portion of the country 
was, fifteen years ago, little better than a home for deer, 
foxes, bears, pheasants and those cunning, amiable, pretty 
not to say delightful little insects, known under the 
apellation of mosquitoes. The cultivation of the soil 



87 

was utterly neglected, and attention was only given to 
working off the wood witli which that region eminently 
abounded. This wood business was profitable, inasmuch 
as a speedy market was always found in New York city 
for anything in the shape of cord-wood. 

This wretched state of things no longer exists. The 
forests have been to a great extent cleared away, and the 
stumping machines have finished the business. New 
settlements are continually forming, and the old ones are 
rapidly increasing in wealth and population. New dis- 
tricts are being brought under efficient cultivation, and the 
original farmers are adding to, and improving their agri- 
cultural facilities. 

The Hammonton tract, upon which, at the opening of 
the road, there were but some thirty residents, now com- 
fortably, and in some instances affluently supports twenty- 
five hundred permanent inhabitants. These people are 
the occupants of farms, of from twenty to one hundred 
acres, which are rapidly being brought to a high state of 
husbandry, and upon which, extensive and productive 
orchards and vineyards are always planted. The houses 
erected by the settlers are neat and comfortable. In their 
internal arrangements, as well as in their dealing, the 
people evince the neatness, exactness and " cent-saving- 



88 

ness " of tlie sturdy, stiff New England people, who 
predominate in this part of New Jersey. Hence, from 
having retained their original characteristics, and from 
their present place of residence, Philadelphians have con- 
cocted the phrase, " Jersey Yankee," to indicate one that 
is "keener on a trade" than even the present denizens of 
the land of pure cold water and wooden nutmegs. 

This whole section of country will, in five years, do 
honor to the name of Jersey, and will abundantly prove 
itself worthy of being called for a channel island. It will 
be a complete garden spot, and in addition, it will become 
as valuable an agricultural section as any of the same ex- 
tent in the country. Its value will be materially en- 
hanced by the wide parallel roads, that have been laid out 
at regular intervals. 

This projected regularity pervades a section of country, 
which extends twenty miles in length, along the line of 
the Camden and Atlantic Kailroad. In breadth, these 
demesnes of improvement reach Little Egg Harbor river 
•on the north side, a distance of more than six miles, and 
on the southwest, in some points to Great Egg Harbor 
river. 

Egg Harbor City's present condition, as well as that of 
the Hammonton tract upon which the town is built, ex- 



89 

liibits the great results that are always to be looked for, 
from the judicious employment of capital, and its ener 
getic concentration. When the first train ran over the 
railway, on the 1st of July, 1854, there were upon this 
entire section but five wretchedly supported families. 
The tract now feeds a thriving population of eighteen 
hundred. 

The improvements, however, are not confined to this 
portion of the country. The lands most ^accessible from 
the stations of Waterford, Winslow, Da Costa and Wey- 
mouth, are now ofiiered for sale, and are being rapidly 
bought up. Already cultivation has been commenced 
upon some of them, and in a few instances extensive pre- 
parations have been made, of such a nature as shall allure 
the settler. 

When we consider that until very recently, the greater 
part of these lands was not oflfered for sale at all — that 
they rested under the reproach of being valueless, and 
withal " out of the United States" — when, too, we re- 
member the stagnation of business and the financial re- 
vulsions that the road has withstood — when we regard all 
this, such results are of a most extraordinary as well as of 
a most encouraging character. Since this region of 
country has been extensively advertised, and attention has 



90 

been generally directed to it ; and since its value lias 
been practically demonstrated, we confidently expect tliat 
its rare advantages will not " go a-begging" in the future. 
In fact, the railway people anticipate tbe settlement of 
portions of this land by at least an addition of twelve 
hundred inhabitants during the ensuing year. Great as 
are these improvements, they convey a very inadequate 
conception of what has been accomplished upon 
the line of railroad. ' The production of all lands, 
that run close upon the railroad, has, within five years, 
increased in value by fifty per cent. The spirit which 
has operated to produce these more prominent results, is 
also evinced in the renovation and enrichment of the 
old farms, which are within reach of the influence ex- 
erted immediately upon the railroad line. 

Atlantic City itself, requires little mention in this con- 
nection. Its rapid improvements, and the immense 
number of visitors who throng there during the summer 
months, is the strongest possible evidence of its inherent 
adaptation for the purposes for which it was founded. 
Its land has improved in value, with a rapidity that was 
never known anywhere before. The property for which 
Dr. Pitney, only sixteen years ago, paid seventeen dollars 
an acre, cannot be purchased to-day for less than that sum 
per fotjt. 



CHAPTER X. 

Ijol ijeaibr ||^atrkal|. 

Don't start gentle reader, at the peculiar heading of this 
chapter ! Atlantic City has its summer theatricals, for 
indeed any other kind would be of no use. The usual 
performances that are produced upon the actual boards in 
other localities during the dramatic season, would not be 
graced (graced is the word — Sampson Brass^ by any 
sort of appropriative audiences, were they (the perfor- 
mances, not the audiences) conducted within gas-lit halls, 
under the stage management of hoary headed Winter. 
The audiences would not distinguish Sir Charles Cold- 
steam from his laquais; they would return to their re- 
spective homes, in considerable doubt as to whether Terry 
the Swell was Sir Wilton Downe, or vice versa. We can 
easily imagine a crowd of Atlanticese wending its way 
from a dramatic exhibition, with a confusion of mind 

91 



92 

very mucli resembling the condition of heaven, hell, earth 
and chaos, as described by one of the inspired people 
who flourished in the poetic past. Winter would be a 
bad manager for the place. He would always be '' busted 
up " at the end of the season, and after trying a second 
time, he would unfortunately discover that he had been 
fighting with the dire decrees of an Irishman's provi- 
dence. 

The Atlantic theatricals are always placed upon "im- 
aginary boards " and for the most part, are the comic, 
sentimental and gushing phases of positive existence. The 
most interesting and entertaining of them are such as 
take place 

IN THE WATER. 

The star bather is performing — she swims like a chick — 
at the hop scenes she cuts a better figitre — in aqua, she 
belongs to the 07-do 2)ancakius — she is a low comedian and 
all laugh at her — she is middle-aged. What means the 
black ribbon tied beneath her chin ? why is not her rich 
hair " unfurled to the breeze? " Poor creature ! she has 
none to furl or unfurl; visitors, however, are kept in 
ignorance of this fact; the oi-do pancakius she don't 
mind, for she goes to Atlantic to bathe. Noble exhibi- 
tion of heroic womanism ! 



03 

Noise, and her twin sister, Pleasure, are in the ascen- 
dant — there is noise with the waves, noise in the water, 
noise with the surge, noise with the breakers, noise with 
the surf, noise with the bathers, noise on the shore. The 
crowds scamper in the waves and yell continually, but as 
each, his share of noise contributes, none are annoyed. 
Ancient Mr. Sol is attired in Jiis accustomed splen- 
dour, and the fact must be admitted that in propria per- 
sona^ he sheds more light upon the aquarial theatricals 
than was ever known to be thrown upon the unimaginary 
boards by the usual appliances. The "star" bather is 
in mcdi'as res of an excellent swim. The youngsters joco- 
sely splash each other. The sounds are all of revelry by 
day — all is lovely as a water lilly. 

When " Hush ! Hark ! do you not see a shark ?" * 
"No I" ' Twas but a water speck or a simple sail ploughing 
the glassy deep. On with the bath, let noise be unannoyed. 
No end of watery joy till dinner bells do ring, to tell us 
there awaits our hungry selves, roast beef and wines, to 
chase the nasty indigestion from our craving stomachs. 
On with the fun ! But hold, again ! that speck upon the 
water grows, and moves while growing towards the bathers. 

* The shark that "appeared " in the summer of 1859, aucl created so much 
excitement among the bathers was only a myth. 



94 

It seems as thougli Destruction had marked some for his 
own. 

The fear increases. The danger every moment becomes 
more and more apparent. The juveniles cling to their na- 
tural protectors. The nurses, that line the shore along, 
forget their little charges in the tumultuous throng, and 
many a child is dropped while wild and high, the breakers 
roll, and lustily the bathers roar. 

The last minute beheld them full of aquarial glee — the 
last moment in conglomerate ease, and free — now separate 
from danger, they gaze in charming dishabde, gaze from 
the shore in wonder real, and scan the contour of the con- 
founded shark. Curiosity ripens — the shark approaches. 
The people never before wondered more. Mr. Sol, for a 
short moment, dims his glory behind a vapory cloud, ends 
the suspense and discloses to the deluded optics of the 
consternists, the unpleasant fact that the shark has disap- 
peared, and that the object which " created so much 
fuss," was but a speck made large by the reflection of the 
dai/lifjht's major. 

THE HOP SCENES. 

The hop (that is the Latin, Greek or Hebrew word for 
a ball,) is the greatest performance of the season. Each 



95 

hotel must organize its corps de lioppct^ or else it can- 
not be considered a first-class establishment. 
THE DOG, GUN AND LINE. 

Since the interposition of Anatic Providence saved Rome, 
(and some time before,) the quacking species has been of 
peculiar interest to sportsmen. These individuals make 
seasonable progresses Be d'akeon para thina, as John 
Cypress might have said. Their dog goes with them Be 
d'aJceon^ &c. They find a "thatchy spot," and recline sidi 
gramme till grey morn bids them commence operations. 
The inlet afibrds amusement to flytailers, who were de- 
scribed by Dr. Johnson as being at one end of a piece of 
machinery, while at the other was a hook. 

We cannot conclude this book without recording the hope 
that, if one of our admiring readers should ever be found' 
in the same predicament as we once beheld a young damsel 
in the water, and should conclude to repeat that lady's 
prayer, a speedy answer may be vouchsafed her. 

She had, previously to her miserable situation, been 
reading " Childe Harold " and "The Fire Worshippers." 
She was sweet sixteen, and upon this occasion stood up to 
her neck in the ocean; while she was in this position, 
she beheld upon the shore, a young, fine looking, favorite 
stage manager from Versailles. It was her affinity she 



90 

thought, for she had yearned for such a one for a long 
time. Casting her eyes out toward the broad expanse of 
sea beyond the bar, and at the same time assuming a poetic 
■expression, she apostrophised the combined concussion 
thuswise : 

" Ye elements, in M-hose ennobling stir 
I feel myself exalted — can ye not 
Accord me such a being ?" 

(THE CURTAIN FALLS.) 

Report says not what answer the prayer received, but 
those who may be desirous of further information, are re- 
spectfully referred to Madame Keckley, unless they are 
willing to bide their time, until the dark lady's new hand- 
book of private gossip be put upon the market in due 
form. 



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